The Palace of Wonders
by crearealidad
Summary: Angela's advice leads to some trouble along the way... NCIS crossover, FEMSLASH
1. Chapter 1

It would have gone better if I hadn't listened to Angela's advice

Spoilers/Warnings: Set post-season 3 on Bones, with no timeline for NCIS. This is crossover femslash, enter at your own risk.

Pairing: Abby (NCIS) / Brennan (Bones)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or the rights to them. No copyright infringement, profit, or harm is intended.

Author's Notes: Thanks to 4ensicbones over on LJ for the uber-speedy and wonderful beta on this story. It's been through four complete re-writes and was originally intended as an entry for the International Day of Femslash… but I failed at that because I'm horrible about deadlines and my world got a little nuts…

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It would have gone better if I hadn't listened to Angela's advice. Granted, if I had been a little more honest about exactly who I was going out with, she might have advised me differently.

I hadn't had a date in nearly a year. Work and my father's trial had kept me exceedingly busy and I hadn't had the time to devote to finding a sexual partner. And of course, there was Booth. He'd increasingly been invading my personal time ever since his involvement with my family's troubles, so even when someone showed an interest in me, his protective nature had quickly scared them off.

But Abby had slipped in under his radar, merely by coincidence, and mine too.

I'd been asked to consult on a set of remains that was being investigated by NCIS and she had been in charge of processing the evidence in the case. At first I'd been wary of her manner of dress, but her enthusiasm and skill in her work had quickly allayed the fears that had been inspired by her dyed black hair, short skirts, and the tattoos that peaked out from beneath her clothing. I even grew accustomed to her habit of anthropomorphizing her lab equipment and her quick, affectionate nature that lead to eager hugs and victorious dancing in place.

When she'd asked me out to drinks, I'd been slightly taken aback, having not really considered her in that light, but I quickly agreed. Her decidedly sly grin was accompanied by her arms being slung around my neck in a bouncing embrace and I was instantly glad I had accepted. While I'd never been with a woman, I'd never considered it outside the realm of possibility and certainly she was an attractive woman whose company I'd come to enjoy. In the moment, with her body so near to my own and her lips nearly making contact with my ear as she thanked me, I couldn't deny that it felt good.

However, once I was home, I found myself suddenly uncertain about the situation. I'd called Angela and asked her to help me. Of course, she'd immediately tried to extract information about my mystery date, but I refused to give her any details, not quite sure how my friend would react. Despite my reluctance to share, she agreed to help me get ready.

The next afternoon, we drove out to Georgetown and she first took me to a boutique, and, after a little prodding, got me to admit that my date had once said I looked good in darker colors. Angela had quickly selected a form-fitting black dress with dark red edging.

Next, she wrestled me into a salon, insisting that I get a full manicure. I'd resisted, noting that the acrylic nails would hamper my work. She'd put her hands on her hips and leveled me with glare. "Sweetie, you asked me for advice. And this is your first date in what? A year? Trust me on this. Get the manicure. Or let me do something with your hair…"

We settled on the manicure and soon the technician was applying artificial tips to my nails. I felt entirely foolish and had nearly backed out, but Angela kept one firm hand on my shoulder as the woman worked. I was surprised to find that between the paraffin treatment and acrylics, my hands indeed did look nice and thanked Angela as we left.

I went home then to get dressed and several hours later I was silently thanking Angela once again as a grin spread across Abby's lips at the sight of me as I approached her outside of The Palace of Wonders, which she'd proclaimed to be her favorite bar. While her short black skirt and velvet crimson and black top were not far from her usual attire, her loose and softly curling hair and the pattern of her fishnet tights effectively erased my uncertainty regarding whether or not I was interested.

Tossing me a crooked smile, she'd drawn me inside, silently paying my cover charge as we entered the main bar area. I was surprised to find the room well lit and centered around the stage on the left wall. The space was already crowded with groups huddled around short tables and she wove us through them to an empty table in the back.

The conversation focused on work as the room grew increasingly crowded and I wondered precisely what kind of show we were here to see. As we talked, her hand had drifted from my own to my shoulder, running along the narrow strap there, as we'd been forced to scoot our chairs closer together to accommodate newcomers.

We'd already had two drinks when the lights dimmed and the night's show began. Our conversation faltered, but I could feel her shifting to sit close to me, whispering in my ear about each of the burlesque dancers as I leaned on my elbows to watch. My eyes were glued to the stage, the music varying widely as each woman came to the stage. With each new song, the women seemed to be wearing less and less clothing and I was transfixed by their overtly sexual behavior. Each time I glanced back at Abby, she gave me an encouraging grin.

By the time my sixth drink arrived, I could feel Abby's lips against my ear, whispering questions about the action on stage as her fingers had made their way to my back. She wanted to know what I thought of their legs, their hair, their breasts, and even the poses they struck. I answered back, slightly breathless, making her laugh when I pointed out their structural anomalies and my own awe at some of the dancers' flexibility. Then her questions took a turn, now asking me what I thought of the way the two women on stage were touching one another, her voice lingering on the syllables of my first name in a way that dragged heat through my chest.

With a deep breath, I'd silently observed them for a few moments as the darker haired woman's hands seemed to grab possessively at the blonde's hips as she bent. "It's just a show to them," I explained, feeling Abby's hand drifting along the zipper at my back. "She's grabbing the other girl, but she's not looking at her. And when it happened, the girl didn't respond. It's mechanical for them because they're not actually seeking connection."

I leaned back from the table then, my eyes still focused on the stage as it went dark, signaling the beginning of another performance, and I brought one hand to her knee, giving in to the increasing need for contact. My fingers played over the rough diamond shaped created by her stockings, dipping into the spaces to feel her warm skin, earning me the touch of the sharp edge of her nail skimming quickly down the line of the zipper, sending shivers along my spine.

The music rose again with a low, sultry jazz beat as a woman dressed only in panties, a garter belt, and two small sticky scraps of fabric to cover her nipples came on stage. My throat went dry as the woman moved to sit in a chair in the middle of the stage, playing out a scene of her right half seducing her left.

Abby's fingers curled and arched, following the dancer's path on my skin. Light touches on my hand that wandered up my arm. She teasingly grazed her knuckles over my collarbone, then under my chin, turning my eyes away from the stage as her other hand found the inside of my knee and began tracing lines along my thigh that inched just under the hem of my dress. She rolled her thumb up from my chin and over my lower lip until I allowed my lips to part, then dragged it back down my chin, morphing into splayed fingers skimming up and down my throat, tilting my head back.

My heated response to her touch surprised even her and I knew there was a strong flush across my pale skin when her other hand rose to brush across my cheek. Our faces were nearly touching, her green eyes flickering even in the dim light. Her breath hitched, then restarted, curling warmth across my lips along with the sweet citrus scent of her drink.

The stage was completely forgotten then as my hand, of its own accord, drifted higher up on her thigh, playing at the edge of her short skirt. My gaze was drawn to her lips, parted and drawing nearer, then brushing against as mine as my eyes fell shut. The thickness of her lipstick made the first moments of contact sticky as it melded with its own, but it quickly dissipated as her tongue sought to explore the line of my lips. The kiss became slow and slick, sliding as our lips found new angles of connection. She tasted of lime and alcohol, the taste of sugar clinging to her lips as I allowed my tongue to glide along them.

Her head tilted as her jaw pressed her lips more firmly against mine, causing my fingers to curl urgently as they tried to skim to the inside of her thigh, but a sharp pain prevented their progress. I gasped against her in surprise and her tongue took full advantage, sweeping in to tease my own. Once again I attempted to move my hand and this time she felt my struggle, giving my lips a quick nip before completely breaking the kiss. We both glanced down to find that one of my nail tips was caught in the weave of her stockings and both burst into laughter.

A few patrons around us were tossing us dirty looks as she brought her hands into her lap and managed to carefully extract my entrapped finger, insisting that I hold still so she wouldn't end up ripping my nail out of its bed. I apologized when she finally freed my finger, earning us more shushes and comments. Abby rolled her eyes at our critics, but took my hand and suggested that perhaps it was time to go.

Once we made our way out of the bar and onto the sidewalk. We paused there, her hand still encircling my own. Perhaps it should have ended there; each of us retreating to our separate cars, headed towards our own apartments for the evening.

But instead I'd turned to her, my eyes drawn immediately to her full red lips. I wanted to kiss her once more, but those eyes were flicking up and down the street in search of something, so I drew her attention back by suggesting that we catch a cab to my place for the evening. She responded by telling me that she lived only a few blocks away and that perhaps we could go there. Her eyes met mine and her hand slid down my arm as she bit down on her lower lip teasingly, denying me their fullness.

I nodded my agreement to her plan as the hand on my arm slipped down to take hold of my hand, bringing it up to her face to examine it more closely, a rare frown creasing her soft features. Glancing from my fingertips to my face, she asked me suddenly, "Have you ever been with a woman before, Temperance?"

I told her I hadn't, shaking my head and averting my eyes to watch the passing cars as I asked if that was a problem. I watched the frown melt from the corner of my eyes as she giggled lightly, dropping the hand she'd been holding and squeezing the other one tight. "No, it's not a problem at all. I was just curious. Come on, let's get going."

She leaned in then, her now lipstick-free lips making warm, wet contact with mine for a brief kiss, before giving me a satisfied grin and leading me away from the bar.

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End Notes: Feedback is truly appreciated and cherished… and will prompt me to read your stories. I like feedback swapping.

I've had some pretty twisted thoughts lately… but I promise the snags will be resolved shortly. And before you ask, no, this was not inspired by recent actual events. Rather, by a near miss that left a rather hinky feeling on my spine…


	2. Chapter 2

Abby left me sitting at her kitchen counter and disappeared

Author's Note: This has now been expanded to and will eventually be three chapters in total. It just didn't quite fit all together.

Gigantic thank you to sentinelcat at LJ for the beta on this.

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Chapter 2

Abby left me sitting at her kitchen counter and disappeared.

It had only taken about ten minutes to walk to her apartment from the bar and she'd chattered eagerly about how she'd gotten her apartment after one of the nuns from her bowling team had told her that her biological sister was getting a divorce and looking to sublet the apartment until the end of the lease.

But the moment we'd entered her apartment, Abby had lead me to a stool at the counter that separated her living room from her kitchen, instructing me to wait there for her.

When she finally returned, she was carrying a plastic sack stuffed full of items and wearing a whimsical grin. Leaning in, she teased her lips across my own and quickly turned away, dropping her bag on the counter, asking me if I was allergic to acetone.

I told her that I wasn't, earning myself a grin and a quick peck on the cheek. She then pulled from the bag a bottle of acetone, nail clippers, cotton balls and an emery board. With a cluck of her tongue, she lifted the nail clippers and stated, "I appreciate the effort, really, I do. But these things have to come off, Temperance…I'm not that into pain."

As Abby looked accusingly at my fingertips, I lowered my eyes, feeling quite foolish for not having considered the ramifications of my actions.

A heavy blush stained my cheeks as she pulled up the other stool, her head cocked to the side and her lips pursed crookedly as she lifted my hand. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but when she brought it to my lips and placed a kiss on each finger, my mouth went dry, giving my waning desire fuel for resurgence.

Abby went to work then, carefully clipping away as much of the acrylics as she could. Thankfully, she covered my embarrassed silence by explaining how much she liked my hands, taking time to run her fingers over each feature she mentioned. Once she was finished with that step, she asked me what had prompted to me to get acrylics.

I told her about Angela then and she burst into rolling laughter, drawing my eyes back towards her. "Thank goodness one of us knows what they're doing…" she teased, running her fingers into my hair, pulling me forward, and stopping just short of kissing me. "Don't give me that look, missy. There's a first time for everything and this… this is fixable."

I barely had time to withdraw the frown I didn't know I was wearing before her lips met mine. My lips opened to her immediately, the familiar heat rolling through my body, melting away my insecurities as her tongue teased against the edges of my teeth. My hands came to her waist, edging my fingers under the velvet top to slide along the soft skin as her mouth tugged at mine. Urgency grew and my fingertips curled against her until I felt a faint squeak being poured into me.

Immediately I dropped my hands, jumping back and nearly toppling myself from the stool. When my eyes found hers, I was expecting her to be upset. But instead, once I'd steadied myself and met that bright green gaze, I found her lips pursed in mock consternation, the corners of her mouth threatening to breaking out into a grin.

"Time to get you declawed, Temperance. No more deadly weapons for you," Abby scolded, shaking a finger at me before turning back to her supplies.

Ten minutes later, I was seated on her couch with aluminum foil encasing my fingertips, holding the acetone soaked cotton balls against my nails. She was standing in front of me, hands on her hips and declaring that I had to keep my hands still for thirty minutes to dissolve the remainder of the acrylics. There was a kitchen timer shaped like a cartoon pig's face ticking away behind her on the table and I was squirming like an impatient child.

Seeing my discomfort, Abby smoothed a hand over my hair and asked if I'd like something to drink. I asked for water and she returned with it a few minutes later, a long pink straw stuck in the glass. For a moment I tried to protest and grabbed for the glass, but she withdrew the cup and insisted that I let her hold it, lest I mess up her handiwork. I relented with a reluctant sigh, leaning forward to take a long slow drink through the straw.

Once I was finished, Abby placed the glass on the table, teasing me about being so thirsty as she moved to stand between me and the coffee table. I watched her, listening to the jangling of the buckles as she unfastened her platform boots and tugged each one off. I instantly began following her lead, shifting to toe off the red heels I was wearing.

But before I could finish, her hand on my knee stopped me, scolding me and insisting that I'd have to wait until the nails were removed, lest I get ahead of myself. She slid her hand from my knee and upwards, grazing up and down my inner thigh as she added that she was going to make certain that I "stayed warm" in the meantime.

My eyes jumped up to meet Abby's shining gaze as her hand withdrew from my leg, forcing a soft sigh from my lips. I was about to ask her how she proposed to keep me warm when she lifted one leg up to rest on the coffee table, leaving a wide swath of her thigh exposed right up to where the top of her fishnets were gripping her smooth skin. After a quick glance to ensure that I was watching, she brought her hands to her knee, sliding them up to the top of the stockings and tucked her fingers under the band there. Slowly, she began rolling it downward, fully revealing the length of her muscular legs until she had the entire stocking rolled around her ankle. "I really wanted you to do this Temperance," she whispered. "Those graceful hands, sliding down my legs… peeling away all this fabric…"

I felt my fingers twitching, longing to feel the rough texture of her stockings in contrast with all that creamy skin. She saw the movement and shifted, sitting down on the coffee table and extending her nearly bare leg towards me, wriggling her stocking covered toes at me, pouting as she asked for a little help.

Automatically my hands rose, moving to take hold of Abby's foot.

"Use your teeth."

Abby's suggestion sent heat surging through my body, her confidence overwhelming any objections I might have had and I leaned forward grasping the gathered fabric with my teeth and tugged. The process didn't go nearly as smoothly as I had anticipated and soon we were both laughing as she pushed my face back and eased the stocking past her ankle before allowing me to finish the process.

She rose from the table as I allowed the stocking to drop to the floor. Bending slightly, her hands took hold of my knees, pressing them apart so she could stand in the space between. "I think I'm going to take care of this one myself…" Her voice trailed off as she lifted her other leg up, resting it on the couch just to my side, spreading her thighs teasingly, her short skirt barely hiding her crotch from view.

Her proximity brought the smell of her arousal to me nearly immediately. The scent was heavy, musky, and nearly sweet. I was surprised by the ripples of excitement that ran along my skin in response.

I struggled to keep my hands still as Abby's fingers began peeling away the stocking. This time, I was close enough to see the faint impressions that the rough weave had left on her skin. My fingertips itched with the need to feel the texture it created as more and more was revealed to me. The desire to experience her skin was overwhelming, sending my head spinning.

I had to touch her.

It was my mouth that finally fulfilled that need. My head tilted in of its own volition, bringing my lips to the lean muscles of her inner thigh, brushing against the imprinted pattern in her skin, sucking their way down to her knee. I was surprised when her hand abandoned the stocking to weave into my hair, urging me upward. Glancing up, I could see that her nipples were standing out, even through the heavy velvet. I was encouraged and soon my mouth was ardently laying lingering open mouthed kisses on her thigh, my nose edging the hem of her skirt increasingly higher towards the radiating heat of her center. She whimpered and curled her nails into my scalp when my mouth brushed the elastic edge of her soft black underwear.

My desire had developed into an aching throb, centered at my clit and leaving me to squirm helplessly with my fingers fairly itching to touch her. When the muscle beneath my lips quivered, I felt an answering twinge in my own muscles and a soft groan escaped my lips.

In a flash her leg dropped and she bent down, meeting my already parted lips with an eager kiss. As she aggressively explored my mouth, I could feel her squirming strangely. Eventually I realized that she'd been removing her stocking with her foot as her fingers began making their way down from my shoulders, cupping and teasing my breasts until I was arching into her hands, moaning against her slick lips as her dark curling hair surrounded our faces. Her fingers tightened roughly around my nipple, forcing a groan against her mouth.

Immediately Abby's touch grew more urgent, her fingers sliding down into the top of my dress to make direct contact with my skin. Her teeth tugged at my lower lip, locking our kiss as my body arched up towards her. I could feel the corners of her mouth turning upward as one of her hands skimmed its way down the front of my dress, teasing down my sides and over my hips until she found the quivering skin of my thighs. My hips writhed and squirmed, inching the tight skirt of my dress upward, my legs spreading as her fingers made their way closer to where I needed them.

I slid lower on the couch, trying to hasten her progress but she denied me, laughing against my lips and withdrawing her touch back to my knee caps. Pressing me back into the couch, her mouth left a lingering trail of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw. She sucked and nibbled her way down my chest as her fingers began inching under my dress once more.

The barest edge of her knuckle was grazing across my underwear above my clit, the resulting ache causing me to emit a pleading whimper just as the sound of distant dinging broke through my over sensitized brain. I was still aching as Abby drew back and stood with a frustrated groan, glaring accusingly at the timer.

I struggled to quiet my ragged breaths as she grabbed my arm and pulled me up to drag me back to the stool. Pursing her lips in concentration, she silently went to work on my hands, carefully removing each covering before peeling and filing away the partially dissolved remnants of the acrylics. I couldn't stop shifting in my seat, trying to tamp down the excitement that was racing along my skin. Each time I moved, she gripped my hand tighter and those green eyes flicked up to pin me to my seat. Eventually, she gave me a sharp swat to the shoulder. "Bad Tempe. Now hold still and let me finish," she scolded emphatically.

After that I kept my eyes focused on anything but her. I certainly couldn't look at her hands. I was so relieved when she finally finished, even if my fingers were slightly sore from her vigorous treatments. She released me, instructing me to go wash my hands. "And make it snappy," she teased as I headed towards the bathroom she'd pointed out.

When I returned to her living room, the tingling need, which had waned only slightly, overtook me. She grinned when she saw me coming, her eyes racing down my body eagerly.

We approached one another and there was an awkward moment when we both lifted our hands to make a move, and instead collided mid-air. I was thrown, but she clearly wasn't daunted, continuing with a slight chuckle to her intended destination. Her hands planted heavily on my shoulders, laughter fading to a tight-lipped, cocky grin as her eyes narrowed. Gently, she pushed down on my shoulders and my eyes darted to her, confused.

She pushed harder then, telling me in a low, hushed tone that I wasn't getting off that easily. That I needed to finish what I'd started.

And with one rough shove, she had me on my knees, wishing for a softer carpet. Her hands then drifted up my face to weave into my hair, tilting my head backwards until I could meet her eyes. Slowly, those curling fingertips pulled me closer until I could feel the heavy fabric of her skirt brushing against my chin. My eyes were locked on the barest edge of her teeth tugging at her bottom lip and I could feel my clit quivering at the thoughts that raced through my mind and along my skin. She kept urging me forward, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away.

"Tempe…" she whined heavily, sweeping her tongue over the spot that her teeth had held. "Haven't we had enough false starts? Get to work, missy…"

Finally, I ducked my head, leaning in and hesitantly nuzzling against her kneecap, only to be greeted by shrieking laughter. Her knees pressed together, bending and knocking against my nose, prompting her giggling to end with a sharp gasp as she dropped to her knees, muttering a string of apologies.

My nose was indeed fine and I ended her babbling by cupping her face and swallowing her words in a kiss. The ridiculous nature of the evening was beginning to wear on me and my arousal had risen to the point that it was overwhelming any hesitation or logic that might have held me back.

My lips sucked and pressed into hers until they popped open. Immediately I swept my tongue over those parted lips then sought to enter her mouth. Greedily, my hands tugged her shirt up until it was crinkled above her breasts, then I made quick work of removing the strapless bra she was wearing.

She gasped and swayed against me, biting down lightly on my tongue as my hands met the bare skin of her lower back. I dragged my hands across her hips, roughly raking up her stomach until I had the soft flesh of her breasts fully cupped in my palms. My fingers tightened against her, palms rolling the hardened points of her nipples.

She broke our kiss then, muttering, "Damn…" as her hands finally engaged in the action, coming around to explore my back, racing downward until they were clasping my ass, pressing my hips into hers as she arched into my hands. The move left her neck exposed and my lips were drawn to the smooth skin there. She smelled of spiced fruit but my tongue was surprised to find that she tasted saltier and of something richer, nearly creamy. The scent mixed with that of our arousal reminding me of where I was originally headed. One of my hands released a breast, making its way down to her thigh.

Her legs were already parted, probably for balance, and my hand slid easily along her inner thigh and turned to cup her through the warm, wet fabric of her underwear. I traced the patterns in the lace, reveling in the pulsing heat that met my skin. When I pressed a single finger against her clit, dragging the lace over the quivering point, I felt her shake against me. Repeating the action drove a shuddering moan from her throat and caused her to release my hips to take hold of my face, dragging me from her neck until she could devour my lips with her own.

I met her kiss urgently, pushing her until she toppled back, struggling to untangle her legs as I followed, my hips falling between her legs and pinning my hand roughly against her center as I fought to realign our lips. It was her teeth that reconnected our mouths, catching my lower lip and tugging sharply. I couldn't stop the cry that escaped my lips then, my hips grinding against hers.

She mercifully released me, soothing my lips with her soft kiss and slick tongue, as her thighs began to quiver. I forced myself to break the contact with her mouth, allowing her hands to guide me further down her body, my finger curling repeatedly against her clit. I left a trail of nipping kisses across her breasts and trembling stomach before my hands worked their way to the edge of her underwear, tugging them down as her hips rose.

Whispering my name desperately, she shifted to help me as I finished removing her underwear. I paused, drinking in the sight of her, hips writhing, fully exposed, her skirt now gathered around her waist. My heart raced as I became aware of just how wet I was and how near the edge I was just from our foreplay, still fully dressed, even my shoes still in place.

With this awareness surging along my skin, I brought my mouth to the inside of one of her thighs, brushing my lips along those tense muscles, encouraged by the eager parting of her legs. I moved quickly then, my tongue and lips soothing their way upwards, soon sliding into the warmth of her folds, seeking the burning tip of her clit. Her hips jumped towards me as my tongue flicked briefly over the point, her lips releasing an echoing gasp. My lips parted and I took her clit into my mouth, my hands sliding along the tops of her thighs and moving in to part the lips hiding her from me.

I opened my mouth against her, the tangy taste rolling over my tongue as I flicked her clit. She groaned then, begging me to put my fingers into her, to fuck her. Her hips rose and I obeyed, sliding a finger inside of her. My finger was surrounded in slick, tight heat, and I pushed another finger inside, arching them to slide along the pulsing walls. The sound of her moans drove me, as she encouraged me to suck her clit faster, fuck her harder until her body closed down around my fingers, the heat molten against my skin. Her head had fallen back and I realized that at some point her fingers had woven into my hair and were clutching at me desperately as she came.

**End Note: **Yeah. I had way too much fun with this chapter. I've been really distracted, but it's getting there, gradually.

At this point my WIPs are still out of control and crazy. So feedback reminds me to get back to things… And just makes me happy…


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